


Heaven's not that far away

by Sh_Wat



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP at heart, Rimming, Romance, Top!Oswald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22789342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sh_Wat/pseuds/Sh_Wat
Summary: Typical long day's evening for Jim Gordon - bar fight, hurt pride and something precious he hopes to keep anyway.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Heaven's not that far away

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the summary's tone, this story is from Oswald's POV.
> 
> English is not my native language, sorry in advance for any mistakes!

Oswald just finished the glass of whiskey he started while Jim was still here, in his office – he declined the offer, saying he would have to go back to precinct after. He was a little tired, but optimistic about the case – recent art gallery theft. The visit was fleeting and strictly business, alas, and tonight they would most likely spend apart. Slightly melancholic about it, Oswald wasn’t planning on going downstairs, he rarely did it on regular nights in club anyway, but the worried henchmen knocked on his door and by their nervous and indecisive expressions Oswald figured out who caused them trouble even before they opened their mouths.

When he made it downstairs, the fight was over. Jim sat by the bar in the company of goon, his opponent was there still too – with bloodied lip, breathing heavily and burning the goons holding him with his gaze.

Oswald clattered with his cane on the floor, demanding the attention.

\- I have to ask you to leave, gentlemen, - he said, and Jim’s opponent sneered, clearly gearing himself up for something more to say, but hid his eyes as soon as Oswald looked at him, and silently went with goons on his left and right. It was a man from Moretti circle, not very important in itself, maybe tried to be a spy. If that was the case, Moretti would have to find another, since this man will not enter Iceberg Lounge again.

Jim went obediently too, not looking Oswald in the eye. But Oswald wasn’t going to let it slide so easily. The first look didn’t show any damage, so maybe Jim was the initiator. Even with his explosive temper, what would provoke him to start fight in the bar, while being sober?

Goons left them outside, in chilling evening. Jim was stubbornly silent, combing his hair back in place.

\- You gonna get yourself banned this way, - Oswald said, trying for dry humor. – Not a good picture for GCPD.

Jim shrugged, but didn’t try to start saying goodbye and go away. So he was going to explain himself. But he was taking his time, no doubts – inventing an excuse, and Oswald didn’t want that, had no patience for that.

\- What this miserable crook could tell you so you lost control to the point of fistfight?

Maybe it was more pressing than was needed, but it worked – judging by the way Jim’s eyes flashed. It was not anger, at least not at Oswald, it was the trace of offended feelings.

\- He told me that I charge too high price for my services, - he said, with sudden abrupt mocking venom, and Oswald shuddered, as if he was present when words were spoken. – I went for a glass of water to the bar, but he was determinate to let me know what an overpaid rentboy I am in the eyes of the whole city.

Oswald shook his head. Jim was smiling, little brittle smile, like this stupid words were truthful, like that was the limit he defined his place in Oswald’s life. And Oswald knew it’s not what he should be angry about, but he couldn’t help it, the hurt.

\- This cretin just handled himself a death sentence – he said, and when Jim’s eyes became wider, added – His own boss will gut him when he will hear how he allows himself to act in my club, with people I respect.

Jim looked at the pavement beneath their feet, then at Oswald again, and nodded, huffing.

\- You’re exaggerating. And after all, it was me who punched him. He could even file a report.

\- And you would let him do it and stay shut up about what he said to you, - Oswald finished for him. He felt angered and saddened at the same time, taxing mix of emotions. Now they’re gonna fight and spent god knows how much nights apart.

But Jim surprised him – not unusual. He looked at him, resolve in his expression, and said quietly:

\- I’m not going back to precinct. Will you give me a ride home?

As if Oswald ever could say ‘no’ to this, to the chance at smoothing the rough angle.

\- Should I call a driver? I was drinking. – he said, fishing for his phone.

\- I’ll be behind the wheel.

They went to the carpark for Oswald’s more discreet car, Jim’s favorite, and Jim opened the passenger door for Oswald, already in lighter mood, chivalrous. Oswald felt better in the closed space of the car, with the prospect of spending the night with him, in his flat. They mostly ended up there, when they stayed the night, and Oswald even got used to it – Jim lived in historical part of Gotham, and despite being very sparsely furnished, the flat even seemed cozy to him – when they coddled together on his bed or had breakfast over his worktable, because Jim simply neglected the kitchen table.

Jim would never agree on a date in restaurant, and the first time Oswald tried to make something like this – arranged them a quiet evening meeting in his closed club where they could be alone together – Jim looked so wary of any noise Oswald decided he would have to wait with dates a little. Maybe he really went a little too far, but he wouldn’t blame himself for temporarily lapse of judgment – after Jim finally kissed him. He forgone any hope that something like this could ever happened between them. There were times when he was sure he would push himself away if Jim even tried this. But the moment he felt Jim’s breath on his lips and saw his eyes – almost as stunned and disbelieving and transfixed as Oswald felt in that moment – he accepted the simple truth that he would never refuse this. Even if they would hate each other after everything go up in smoke, even if it will end soon and painful.

Jim definitely felt more secure in what they were doing when they were alone – like now, when he first reached for Oswald’s hand and held it while they were heading to his apartment. His mood improved enough he could even joke about his incident.

\- To think about it, I was defending your honor. He implied you’re not sharp enough to know how much I would cost.

\- Honestly, Jim, - Oswald was not entirely comfortable with this theme, but they would be better if they talked it trough. – He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how much this talk would cost him.

\- And by the way, Harvey says you’re a pretty lousy sugar daddy, - Jim said suddenly cheerful, and Oswald coughed, caught by surprise and a little embarrassed. – No expensive watches, no limousine rides at work.

Oswald was more shocked that Jim discusses them with his best friend than anything else. Or was it a joke too? Jim squeezed him hand, reassuring, and said more serious and humbled:

\- He figured it out. He’s a pretty good detective. But I’m glad he knows, he’s… less judgmental about it than I thought he would be.

Oswald was grateful they were parking near Jim’s apartment building already. He would be very glad if he never had to hear one of those jokes himself, but for Jim Harvey and his acceptance was important – and he knew enough about Harvey Bullock to respect his readiness to ride or die for Jim.

**

It was always a little harder or Oswald to think about conversations when he entered Jim’s flat. Conversations were for later, and in the first moments they didn’t even had the words sometimes. They got each other like one get a tune in the music.

Jim pulled Oswald closer by his shoulders, smiling slowly, licking his lip and diving to kiss Oswald, deep, open, igniting. They pulled their clothes up, down, _off_. With Jim he always felt his body as being more sensitive, more responsive. He felt greedy, hungry, he didn’t wait ‘till Jim finished his un-clothing when he caught him in embrace and pushed on the bed to get him out of remaining fabric. It felt like desperation, how he wanted to get a taste of Jim’s body, his throat, his chest, his nipples, his abdomen.

Then he froze over Jim, leaning on his hands, them both heavily breathing and wild-eyed. He wanted to admire the way Jim’s muscles moved when he raised hands to held Oswald, how his chest heaved a sigh, how blush risen over his skin, legs parted to let Oswald lay more comfortable, his hard cock . His slightly bitten lips parted, his eyes were sparkling. He was the most beautiful sight Oswald ever saw, most delightful he ever felt.

\- Have something on your mind? – Jim whispered, and Oswald felt his whisper with all of him, and shivered. He could never form into words what was on his mind now, not soft and not rough, all together, all in between, and he couldn’t speak yet, but he could try and show him

And Oswald slid down, kissing over Jim’s hips, holding them up to put Jim’s legs on his shoulders. Mouthed over Jim’s cock and went lower, opening his cheeks with fingers, careful, fast, he did it all so fast surprised intake of breath by Jim turned into moaning almost seamlessly.

He never thought he would do it, and would feel elated and eager for more, wet tongue thrusting, opening Jim up, his own hips jutting hard against the bed. He loved every second of it, every twitch of Jim’s muscles in his hands, every moan and whimper, every shudder. Jim was careful, not pushing down, but his body was taut and trebling and canting just so.

He pulled away, hasten to wipe saliva from his chin, and Jim groaned, reaching for him.

\- Turn over, please – Oswald rasped. He didn’t expected how open and raw this sounded, and he didn’t care now. They breathed each other, he felt drunk on Jim’s scent, his taste, and he wanted him to almost unbearable degree. _I want to open you up and thrust as deep and hard as you take me. I want us to have this forever._

Jim laughed, dizzy little breathless ‘ha’, as if he heard Oswald’s thoughts, and turned in a swift graceful motion. Raised himself onto knees, resting his forehead against wrists. Oswald watched him with the corner of his eyes, all the while retrieving the lube and getting it on his fingers. Then sat back and pressed two digits into Jim’s hole. His own breath hitched when he felt how hot and tight Jim was, they done it not once already, but he felt it always – ardor. Jim groaned, pushing back against Oswald’s hand, his working fingers, and Oswald caught his hip, pulling himself closer, every ragged breath Jim took reverberated in him, and he felt rather than heard his own half-moan. Then Jim moaned louder, sudden sound taking him off guard, and Oswald repeated what his fingers were doing, brushing the spot again, always insatiable to hear and see Jim like this, biting his own lips to distract himself from how perfect it sounded.

\- I think, I think I’m ready. – Jim breathed out, and Oswald immediately pulled his fingers out, fast but careful, and applied lube on himself too. He lowered himself over Jim, breathing in his neck, right under his hair. The moment they just breathed, and then moved simultaneously, and Oswald closed his eyes and grinded his teeth, because it still took a lot – not to thrust forward with all he had when he felt Jim’s body taking him in.

Jim shuddered under him, shifted, and Oswald felt it so acutely he grasped Jim’s side, attempting to still him, to let them both adjust. It was a good and mortifying thing at the same time, to be this close to give up control and not give a damn. With Jim he wanted nothing more than to lose control.

But he waited still, waited a little more and then pulled back – and thrust forward, he tried his best to do it swiftly, smoothly, but to the hilt. Then again, and again, Jim’s breath hitched, he moved to meet Oswald’s movements. When they found rhythm, he kissed Jim’s shoulder and leaned higher to watch how his cock moved in and out. It always got him heady, sent hot shivers down his spine.

It was not a feeling to be proud of, and he was anyway – felt his heart beating even faster watching Jim let him do it, take it from him, need it from him. Right here and now Jim was his – as fully as he will ever be, and Oswald wanted more, wanted take all on this crumpled bed sheets, listening to Jim’s breathy groans, feeling and seeing his body responding, giving back as fast and hard as he got. And Oswald leaned forward again, partly to put the pressure off the leg, but it was a distant inconvenience, mostly he thought now in other categories – he wanted to bathe in Jim’s scent, sharper now when his skin glistered with sweat, wanted to drive deeper in his heat, wanted to be everywhere for him, claim everything in him. He messily kissed Jim’s neck, his hair, his ear – and he felt animalistic, possessive grin stretching his own lips as Jim’s moans grew lower while he whispered loudly:

\- Show me. Show me how you get off.

Jim keened at this, and Oswald gripped him tighter over his chest, helping to change position so they were almost on their sides – and he could watch over Jim’s shoulder as his hand goes over his flushed cock, all the way down and up to the head, and again, and faster.

Oswald felt almost feverish. He felt that Jim was close – his body clenched around Oswald so tight, in it’s own rhythm, almost pulsing, and Oswald lost it, all remaining shreds of self-control, and he shoved it hard the last few strokes, giving Jim all he’s got to give now, and feeling not fully satisfied – irrational, blurred thought – course he couldn’t mark Jim with his come everywhere at once. He loved coming inside Jim, this burning, throbbing, hard-punching pleasure, loved filling him whole, adored his prolonged, deep moan, and bit his own hand down so he wouldn’t bite Jim too hard.

They parted to lay on the bed, trying to catch their breath. Buzzing numbness seated in Oswald’s muscles, sated, pleasant. But his mind was not shut out yet, strangely enough it never fully were after their intercourses, and Oswald reached out to Jim, who smiled at him, turning his head on the pillow. Jim took his hand, pulled him closer and draped in his embrace.

When they had sex for the first time, Oswald was ashamed of his aching need to entangle Jim in his embrace in the afterglow. But Jim initiated this himself, he was all in for cuddles. Oswald would figure it out, but he still thought that with them it would be different, that it’s not about romance, it’s something else – curiosity, self-sabotage, new deal making tactic, Oswald counted all the variations – and everything went as dust in the wind when Jim scooted closer and ran the hand over Oswald’s shoulder, warm, tender.

They curled into each other, and their breath evened at the same time to the same pace. Jim held him closer, kissed his jaw, his cheek. Oswald felt softened, dazed, reaching after his lips to kiss them, light, calming kisses. This was the moment when he understood that it’s Jim who has him, owns him, and can do anything he wishes. 

When they settled and awareness of the world around came back, Oswald remembered Jims’ love for snacks after good rolling, and how he even started getting used to it himself:

\- So, do you have anything to make a proper sandwich, or it will be granola bars again?

\- Bread – yes. Anything else – maybe? – Jim chuckled, rolling from Oswald to get them both tissues. – Why don’t you go and try your luck while I’m brewing the tea?


End file.
